Filtering by Category: "eating"

Diner? Let's do it.

I love diners. Love them. Just about every city, town, village, borough, municipality, alleyway has a diner. Even places so small that they only have two intersections. One of those intersections will have a diner. Probably a diner/gas station/ tire shop/ shower for truckers/ police station/ liquor store, but it will be there. Or it's four am and you're wandering in a city, you want some food, and over the hill, what do you see? A gorgeous, tiny, come as you are diner. Love these damn places for many reasons.

EVERYONE goes to diners. Every type of person. Hot people go to diners, ugly people, tall people, tiny baby people, amputees, full-utees, and everyone in between. You can see giant men in scooters whose flab is touching the floor crushing milk shakes. You can see a gorgeous woman with a huge ass in tight pants passing out drunk while eating a cheeseburger. People who look like they've strangled cats. People who look like they help people strangle cats. Cops. The complete opposite of cops. Diners are like grown up cafeterias in city high schools. Jocks, nerds, teachers, posers. They are all there.

Diners are usually opened twenty four hours. All damn day! How great is that? What other places are open twenty four hours? Some grocery stores, sure, which is great, but it's food that you then have to make. Not even all shady places are open all day. Strip clubs close. And where do those strippers end up? Diners. I guess drug houses are open twenty four hours a day, but you can't get a pulled pork sandwich in a building that also sells meth.
"Yo, man. I need an eight ball, and a Cuban."
"Cuban? Cigar? Cuban person, motherfucker?"
"Naw, the sandwich. Cuban sandwich."
"I cook meth here, not meat.... Wait. If I cooked meat, you'd buy, meat, AND meth? Let me think about it."

Diners also don't have any weird rules. ANY time of day, you go in to a diner you can get what you want. That doesn't happen anywhere else. McDonald's has strict breakfast times. Not diners. Want breakfast at 11pm? Done. You want to start your day with a turkey dinner and a bowl of raisin bran? No problem. Where else can your ridiculous craving for pancakes and whip cream with a side of gyro meat at four in the morning be filled? Not even at a place that only sells those things.
"Hey, can I get combo number one?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but we ar..."
"What do you mean? You are called 'Pancakes and whip cream gyro meat dreams'! Tag line, 'Are you a monster who wants these things together? Well come on in and we'll make you feel better'.
"Yes, I know. But we are closed. This is a very niche store. We gonna keep this open all day? You're the only person I've seen eat here and we go through this every night! See you tomorrow, Chris."
".... Alright. Goodnight, Steve."

Menus at diners are massive. You could beat somebody to death with a diner menu. Some of these things are about twenty pages. Twenty pages! Of food! In one place! How do they have space for this? Do they NEED twelve types of sandwiches? Nope. But they have them. Why? Because diners are magical. Five different muffins. Seven cakes. Eight burger options. Don't even try to count the number of ways you can get potatoes. Gyros, soups, kabobs, desserts. Diners are the Shang Tsung of restaurants. It's like they have sucked up everything off of everyone else's menu. About four hundred food options, and twelve seconds to decide what you want. Usually a waitress will hand you a menu, spin in a circle, and ask you if you're ready.
"Hey, here's an encyclopedia of every piece of food ever made. Also, don't forget, that you can also order whatever you want, even if it's not on the menu, and we'll figure it out for you... Do you know what you want?"
"I haven't opened the menu yet."
"Okay. I'll give you a minute.... (rock paper scissors with herself) .... You ready now?"

There are no topics of conversation off limit in these places. You can talk about ANYTHING in these places. Family, sex, breaking the law. People for sure plan bank jobs in diners. Criminals sitting in booths for hours talking about how they're going to get the key from the manager.
"Honestly, I say, just walk in, crack him in the fuc... Oh, yeah. I'll have a cherry coke and a burger. Hey, let me ask you a question. If you were gonna get the keys from your manager, you think cracking him in the head would get the job done?"
"Um. No. I'd just ask him."
"(GASP) Just ask him!"
People sit in diners and talk about work. People go into diners late and talk about banging people in club bathrooms. At any level, too. You can talk as loud as you want about the sex you're having.
"LAST NIGHT I BANGED THIS PERSON AND IT WAS A GREAT TIME!"
"Oh yeah? That sounds awesome."
"IT WAS! WE WERE MAKING AS MUCH NOISE AS I AM RIGHT NOW, IN THIS DINER! LAST NIGHT I YELLED 'DEAR GOD, I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS HARD, I MIGHT BREAK SOMETHING', AND NOW,  I'M GOING TO YELL, 'HEY, PUT EXTRA CHEESE ON THAT BURGER. I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS HARD!"

Diners also aren't picky about how long you're there. You can order a coffee, maybe a bagel, sit there for six hours, nobody will anything say to you. Chill the whole damn day. Any other place letting you do that? Don't think so. You can't go into Red Lobster, just get biscuits, and sit there for hours.
"What would I like....? Well, I'm going to maybe talk on my phone for awhile, maybe someone will come meet me. I'll probably have a bunch of cigarettes waiting for this bus I have to get on... That'll probably be six hours.... I'll just have a diet pepsi. And keep em coming."

Waiters and waitresses at diners don't care what you're doing. If you walked into a steakhouse with puke on your shirt, you might get some looks.
"Hello, I'll be serving you tonight. Can I start you with som... oh god."
"Wooooooo! Yeah. I'll start with.... (burp)... ah, god. I'll take a .... fuuuuuucckkkkk."
"Sir, there's a little bit of... you have some... on your shirt there."
"Oh, this? Yeah.... it's not mine. A girl fell into me an.... (burp)... I'll take a.... aaahhhhh, I can't stop spinning."
Waiters at diners? Won't even look twice. You could come in there with your head cut off, holding a dead hooker. They won't even blink an eye.
"Hey, sorry that I'm coming in this way, but before I head to the hospital I wanted to get some food."
"Sorry? Sorry for what? Wasting my time? Just order your food. Is that head eating? What does it want?"

And that's another thing that makes diners great. It's acceptable to be what you are. You're beyond trashed? You're a seven hundred pound cripple? You have half a head and six arms? Cool. How do you take your coffee? Diners won't kick you out for being drunk. Diners won't kick you out for being smacked out of your mind on smack. Diners won't even kick you out for beating a kid at your table for not eating his dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets (which diners have!). As long as diners are around, we will all have a place to go.

twitter @nathanmacintosh
DONATE TO SUPPORT POSITIVE ANGER!